The Wayward Pilot
by Tippy.LaRoux
Summary: After taking off from the Northernmost point of Scotland, a pilot must navigate the treacherous skies between Inverness and Dover on May 2, 1998. Unfortunately, there was something going on that day that this pilot couldn't avoid.


Written for: Hogwarts - Ravenclaw  
Geography - Task 4: Plane crash and aftermath  
Triggers: drowning  
Inspired by the Aya & Beta'd by Jet ~ty!

May 2, 1998

"EGHW Air Traffic Control to G-FNDR . We have you flying over a no fly zone. Repeat, you are entering airspace controlled by the MoM, and must vacate immediately."

The empty voice seemed to be coming from the cockpit radio, however that was impossible due to it having been damaged shortly after takeoff earlier that day.

"G-FNDR to EGHW Air Traffic Control, requesting permission to land." Maybe, if the communications were back up, he would be able to finally reach someone who could help tell him where he was. He needed to get down to terra firma before the fuel gauge dropped further towards E.

"G-FNDR to EGHW Air Traffic Control, requesting permission for emergency landing. There has been equipment breakdown, and I fear complete failure is imminent," after five more minutes of radio silence, the pilot became more desperate and requested permission, again, to land his plane.

There was no response, and he felt the sudden urge to turn the plane around. Unfortunately, that was not an option. The fuel gauge was finally buried on E, and it wouldn't be long until the twin engines began to give out entirely.

He hadn't seen anything but dense forests, or rocky terrain for almost an hour. The gauges had begun acting strangely after take off, but not being able to use the communication, he had attempted to fly towards his destination, Dover, where he would pick up a pair of newlyweds and take them back to Inverness.

The air outside the cockpit began to take on an almost murky quality. Like flying over a forest right after a fire had burned out. A thick mist began to coalesce on the windshield, and it became increasingly difficult to see where he was going. He was relying solely on landmarks to guide him.

Then, he saw what he was looking for. A bright flash of red lit up the sky in front of him. It must have been an old flare however, because it did not stay up in the air like most rocket flares do. It had burnt off the mist around it before it disappeared without a trace. Thinking that the parachute must have been faulty, or else why wouldn't the flare remain airborne, he continued flying towards the spot he saw the originate light from.

They must have gotten an entire shipment of faulty flares. Red, green, and even a few purple jets of light were lighting up the landing field that must be right in front of him—strangely though, not all of the flares were sent towards the sky. Quite a few were shot off horizontal to the ground. That did not seem very safe at all.

As he flew ever closer, the air around him changed again. The mist became thicker, and the air was cooler. It seemed as though every bit of happiness was sucked from his body. He could see, as if it were happening right there in his cockpit, the day he stood around his mother's bedside as she took her last breath. He could feel the warm sticky blood on his hands from when he tried to rescue the stray dog that had been hit by a car when he was twelve. He could see the disappointment in his father's eyes when he didn't make Flight Lieutenant while enlisted with the Royal Air Force.

Lost in his own personal hell the pilot almost missed the largest animal he had ever seen, flying through the air in front of him. It was black as night, and had a wingspan almost as wide as his little plane. When a second one came and he was flanked on both sides by the creatures he took a second to take a closer look. That is when he noticed the strangest thing yet. On the back of the huge bird-horse creature, was a person. He never would have seen her, if it weren't for the streak of long white blonde hair flying behind her, as she was dressed head to toe in a black cape.

He was seeing things, and it was time to get this plane down. The cabin must have lost pressure at some point, or there was a carbon monoxide leak and he was hallucinating. Just as he was about to turn back to his controls, the blonde girl waved at him, and it felt as though his heart stuttered. But it wasn't his heart, it was the engines, and the plane made a stomach lurching drop in altitude.

"Mayday, mayday. G-FNDR to EGHW. The plane is going down—"

Just as the words left his lips, something tore the left wing from the plane. It began a terrifying free fall, and having no way of controlling the plane any longer, the pilot merely braced for impact.

The plane hit the water that might as well had been cement. His harness kept him in place, strapped into his chair. His head was reeling and his ears were ringing from the force of the impact. Looking out the cockpit window he saw that he was slowly sinking into a dark body of water. The impact, unfortunately, had damaged the latching mechanism, and the windows around him were cracked.

As the plane sunk below the surface of the water, small creatures began swarming around the windows. They looked almost like praying mantises, but those were green and lived in trees, these were grey and appeared to be trying to fit through the cracks in the glass. With nowhere to go, and nothing to be done, save remove the harness which was quickly resolved, the pilot sat and waited for the cockpit to fill with water so the pressure would be equalized enough to force the hatch open.

The cockpit lights flickered off when the water rose to his chest. The grey water demons, as he had taken to calling them, were gnashing their sharp teeth against the glass. The press of their bodies straining the already fractured glass finally became too much, and the seal on the side panel finally gave way. He hurriedly took one last breath before the ice cold water rushed in, and with it the nightmarish creatures.

Thrashing about in the cockpit, he finally managed to kick his way out, and began swimming towards what he hoped was the surface. So little light reached this far down, and he kept getting his arms and legs tangled in the thick forest of seaweed the plane had gone down in.

His lungs were burning with the lack of air, and he slowly let the last few bits escape his lips, if only to verify which way was in fact up. Swimming towards what he know knew was the surface, he kicked harder when he noticed the light filtering through the dark waters.

Just as he thought he would pass out from the exertion, he felt a tug on his leg. Looking down he saw the most terrifying sight of his life. Thin grey fingers were wrapped tightly around his leg. Kicking as hard as he could, he tried to free himself from the iron grip, but to no avail. The fingers crushed his ankle, and pulled him farther down. Away from the light, away from the air he needed. He jerked his leg up, and although he was not able to break the hold this creature had on him, he was able to bring it closer. Once he looked into the yellow eyes, of this thing that looked half human, half fish, he knew he would never see the surface again.

The creature continued pulling him down, and eventually the pilot could do no more. He stopped fighting, he stopped breathing, and eventually, he stopped living. His bones eventually resting with all the others that didn't heed the warning at the bottom of the lake.


End file.
